The Golden Generation and The Room of Requirement
by FreshPress
Summary: When the next generation of Hogwarts students isn't blowing up their Potions cauldrons or trying to get their hair to grow back again in a normal color, they uncover more mysteries about their school . . . and the very creation of wizardkind.
1. Nineteen Years Later

**Nineteen Years Later**

On the beautiful, crisp, fall midmorning in which our story starts, King's Cross Station was bustling with activity. The sun was shining high in the clear blue sky and apple-red leaves danced across the asphalt.

A small family of three hurried into the station, their conspicuous black robes billowing in the wind. To the unfamiliar eye, they were certainly an odd lot; a gray owl hooted loudly from inside its cage, which was perched precariously atop their cart. And of course, their attire certainly was strange. But this was London, the city where people were used to seeing everything.

They seemed, at first, as if they were heading towards Platform Ten. Yet there were no trains scheduled for Platform Ten that day. But then the three figures came to a halt, right in front of the brick barrier that divided Platforms Nine and Ten.

The tall blonde man, presumably the father of the family, leaned down and whispered something into the little boy's ear. The boy's gray eyes widened, then he nodded eagerly. He turned to the brick barrier, with a determined look on his face. He pushed his cart a bit forward, then stopped hesitatingly, looking back on his parents one more time. His father, and the woman that was supposedly the mother, nodded at him encouragingly, and the little boy turned back to face the barrier again.

A nearby ice cream man was running a stand right past the gates. He had been observing the strange group since they entered the station. He watched, completely bemused, as the little boy raced his luggage cart towards the brick wall and -

He blinked. That lunatic of a boy had been just about to crash into the wall - silly git, what was he _thinking_? - when the ice cream man's vision was obscured by a large, loud group passing by. He pursed his fat little lips, annoyed. He would've liked to see the boy get knocked out by the barrier. Serves him right for his stupid little stunts. He tried to get on his tippy-toes to look over the large crowd, but the group was a tall bunch, especially those three gangly ones in the middle, and the poor ice cream man wasn't much tall himself.

"Excuse me sir?" A small voice asked out of nowhere.

"What?" The man snapped, annoyed. He looked down, surprised to see a sweet little redheaded girl standing at his cart, rocking back and forth on her heels. He softened. "Oh, I'm sorry, poppet. Didn't see you there. May I help you?"

"Can I get an icee? Pretty please?"

"Well, of course, sweetheart." The ice cream man opened his cooler and pulled out a Popsicle. "That's going to be £3.00."

"Uh, I dunno how quite to count money, you see." The girl scratched her head.

The man's eyes gleamed. "Oh, don't worry about it. Just give me all you have, I'm sure it'll be close to enough. The rest is on me."

"Oh, thank you!" The girl beamed ear-to-ear. Then, to the ice cream man's utter bemusement, she dropped two hubcap-sized gold coins onto counter, along with a few little bronze coins. They rolled and rolled and rolled until they clattered to a stop.

His eyes widened, then he burst out into laughter. Was this some sort of joke?

"I'm sorry, love, but I don't take your play money."

"Oh . . .Er . . ." The girl scrunched up her eyebrows and turned to the large group that had been passing by. "Mummy!" She yelled.

A slender, petite, redheaded wonder separated herself from the group. "Oh, Lily-Billy, what've you gotten yourself into this time?" She said, sounding exasperated. She reached the ice cream stand. "Ah."

She surveyed the scene, sighed in understanding, then addressed the ice cream man. "I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding, sir. Here," She dug into her bag and pulled out a £20 note, and tossed it onto the counter. "Keep the change for your troubles."

The ice cream man nodded, smiling widely and eying the money greedily. "It was not trouble at _all_. I completely understand. Kids, you know. What can you do, eh?" He quickly swept up the £20 bill and stuffed it into his apron pocket.

"Yes, well - you see, my daughter likes to play pretend a lot, she has a wild imagination. Sometimes she gets reality and her fantasy world confused." The woman laughed, a bit forced.

"No problem, ma'am. Well, you feel free to come back anytime, you hear?" The ice cream man said cheerfully, waving them off as they left. He chuckled to himself as the girl whined to her mother.

"But Mummy, it's _not_ pretend." She insisted. "You and Daddy use those all the time! At Gringotts -"

"_Hush_, child."

By now, the large crowd had moved away from the stand, and the ice cream man glanced again towards the barrier, hoping to be in time to witness the blonde boy getting a proper whooping from his father for being so _stupid_. But the boy wasn't there anymore. Neither were his mother _or_ father.

The ice cream man frowned.

He noticed the large group that had passed by was _also_ heading towards the barrier. Well, it certainly seemed to be a popular location today.

The ice cream man saw the redheaded woman turn back, glancing at him warily, then she whispered a few words to a tall, lanky man with black hair. The man turned, and the ice cream man locked eyes with him for a second. A piercing jade green . . .

The ice cream man suddenly felt his eyelids get heavy. Moments later, he was asleep.

* * *

"Scorpius, dear, your collar!" The thin blonde woman bent down and fussed over her son's gray overcoat.

"_Mum!_" The little blonde boy, who we've met already, rolled his eyes.

The mother sighed. "I'm sorry my love." She gave him a firm kiss on the forehead, which Scorpius wiped away with a disgusted _yuck_. "You know I'm just worried about my darling son leaving me for a whole year."

"_Mum!_" Scorpius jumped up and down impatiently. "Don't baby me!" He looked around warily, making sure no one had seen his mother's embarrassing actions.

The tall blonde man who was standing behind them was a spitting image of the little boy, who, as you've guessed, happened to be his son. Draco Malfoy put a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder. "Astoria, calm yourself. Can't you see you're stifling the poor boy?'

"Alright, alright!" Astoria gave a surrendering laugh. "I supposed you're going to grow up someday."

Right then, a large group of people poured out onto the platform. The blonde man stiffened, and Scorpius' eyes widened. The gray owl in the cage fluttered its wings in excitement and gave a small hoot.

"Father?" He tugged on Draco's robe, shocked. "Is that - is that really _them?_"

"Oh, yes." Draco sounded a little annoyed. "That's your _adored_ Golden Trio for you."

"Merlin's _beard!_" Scorpius whispered. "In the flesh! They're absolutely _beautiful_, aren't they?" His father snorted. Scorpius turned to his father eagerly._"_Can I go ask them for autographs?"

"Great Salazar, _no!_" His father hissed, repulsed. "That's _absolutely_ out of the question."

"Aw, Dad, its -!"

"You're being absolutely ridiculous, Scorpius." Draco sneered. "You know, sometimes I think you're in love with them or something. What with those obscene posters and newspaper clippings pasted all over your wall . . ."

"I just want their signatures!"

"Let me make this clear, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. You are _not_going to go and beg the Potters and Weasels for autographs."

"Oh, alright then, be a . . ." Scorpius trailed off his words incoherently.

"Scorpius!" Astoria scolded.

"Sor_ry_." Scorpius replied, not sounding sorry at all.

Scorpius observed the Golden Trio for a while, itching to approach them. Their family was _huge_. He'd heard a lot of bad talk about the Weasleys before, but they looked like an awful nice sort despite what his grandfather had told him. There were the traditional Weasley redheads, of course, but also bright blondes, hazel browns, and a couple of jet blacks mixed in the lot.

And there, in the center of it all, pushing their children's luggage carts, was _them_. Standing out horribly from the crowd even though they were clearly trying not to. A tall redhead, a mass of brunette curls, and a horrible shock of untidy jet black hair that could only be - - _him._The hero of the Wizarding world. _The_Harry Potter.

_The_ Harry Potter who happened to be nodding at Scorpius' own father at that very second. Scorpius looked up to see Draco return the greeting with a cold, reserved, but polite nod as well.

"So you _do_know them!" Scorpius cried with glee.

"Well of course I do." Draco said, a bit amused. "I have no idea why you're so surprised. Even if you didn't believe what I've told you, I'd think you wouldn't question those biographies you waste all your time reading."

"They barely tell us anything about your relationship with them in the war." Scorpius complained. "All it says is that you and Harry had a small 'enmity'-" Here Draco snorted "- at school, and something happened at the Battle of Hogwarts involving you, and during the Trio's time abroad you guys crossed paths. No matter how much I read, I can't get any more information than that."

Draco smirked. His dad's Ministry connections were certainly good for _something_.

His son continued. "And it's not like _you're_any help; you won't tell me _anything_ about the Golden Trio."

"What're you talking about? I tell you stories all the time." Draco said, affronted.

"Let me reword - you won't tell me anything _interesting_about the Golden Trio. I _really_ don't care about how you managed to invade the DA Headquarters."

Astoria nudged Scorpius. "It's fifty-five already, sweet, we'd better get your stuff onto a compartment."

"Astoria, will you go ahead and take his things? I'd like to talk over a few things with Scorpius." Draco asked, giving her a meaningful eye.

"_Locomotor luggage._" Astoria waved her willow wand, Scorpius' trunks and Luna's cage floating after her.

Scorpius turned to his father, puzzled. "What is it, father?"

"Scorpius, listen to me. What I'm going to tell you is very important, and you must do exactly as I say." His father's steely cold eyes locked into his son's.

"Alright . . . what is it you need to tell me?" Scorpius shifted from foot to foot, glancing up at the clock nervously.

"Will you promise to do as I tell you?"

Scorpius hesitated, then said, "Yes. Of course, father."

"Scorpius, you must _not_, by any circumstances, become friends with any of the Weasleys or Potters."

Scorpius frowned. "Why not?"

"Because" Draco said slowly, "They're just _different_ from us, Scorpius."

"So . . .I'm supposed to be their enemy? Like with you and Mr. Potter?" Scorpius' brows came together. He didn't want to have to be an enemy of the Weasleys.

"No, no, here's the most important part. . . ."

"When_ever_, and I mean _whenever_, any of them need help, you must _always_ help them to the best of your ability." Draco said this with a bit of difficulty.

"What? I - Why?" Scorpius was utterly confused.

"I'll tell you when you're older." Draco said, glancing again at the Potter/Weasley crowd.

Astoria appeared once more. "Scorpius! It's about time to board the train, my love." She gave him a watery smile, then enveloped him in her arms. "Oh, I'll miss you so much, Scorp."

After many hugs and kisses, to which her son barely responded, she let him go tearfully. His father patted his arm good-bye, and wished him good luck at school.

And so with his head full of his father's cryptic instructions, Scorpius Malfoy boarded the Hogwarts Express.


	2. Family and Fireworks

_This chapter is for my very first review, __written by **littlefishbigpond81**, who is much too kind to me in complimenting my writing._

_I'd also like to thank **DefyingGravitywJB**, **EpsilonTheta**, and of course, my BFFs **Luna Jackson** and , for reading this story. _

* * *

**Family and Fireworks**

"Ouch! Dear God, _could_ you be more obnoxious, James?" Rose winced as her dear cousin practically stampeded past her, pushing her into the window. Poor Pig got rattled around horribly in her cage.

"Oh, sorry, Rosie!" James yelled back. "But I've heard Mick's smuggled a few of George's fireworks, don't want to miss the show!"

"You're not sitting with us, James?" Albus asked nervously.

"Well, _someone's_ got to make room for you and Rosie, don't they?" James called back as he continued to weave his way past other people milling in the corridor. "One compartment can only fit so many!"

"Go on, I can't _stand_ the sight of you, you bloody git." Victoire sulked.

"I love you too, Victoire, dearest." James singsonged, then narrowly ducked a well-aimed Bat-Bogey hex. "Oh dear, looks like someone's in a nasty mood." He grumbled as he disappeared into the crowd warily.

"Why do I have _such_ a sodding bastard of a cousin?" Victoire complained. "Can't wait until next year. Then Teddy and I can run off and be alone without annoying relatives poking their long noses in."

"C'mon, let's get a move on already!" Rose rolled her eyes, not entertained by the huge roadblock her dawdling relatives were creating.

"Hey, wait, where's Roxanne?" Albus said, twisting his head around to look.

"Oh, don't worry about her. She's most likely in the prefect carriage already. Completely obsessed with becoming the perfect Head Girl, if you ask me." Victoire remarked. "Keep on walking, Albus."

"I don't see what she needs to worry about." Molly said quietly. "I mean, this _is_ Roxanne we're talking about. You know, Little Miss Overachiever Wand Up My -"

"Molly!" Victoire scolded. "You _do_ realize that I'm still a prefect!" She used her sleeve to polish up her blue-and-bronze badge.

Molly rolled her eyes.

"Albus, stop! This is it!" Victoire said grandly as she slid open the door to what was surely the biggest compartment on the train. That is, besides the prefects carriage. Rose didn't have any idea why James thought it was necessary to 'make room for them'. They could've fit at least ten people comfortably.

"The unofficial Weasley compartment." Victoire continued smugly. "No one dares to touch a single _inch_ in here unless they've either got our blood or our permission."

Everyone filed in, and Victoire lifted all of their luggage onto the racks with a flick of her wand. Rose held tight to Pig's cage. The snow-white owl hooted softly and ruffled her feathers as Rose sat down and placed the cage on her lap. It might've just been her imagination, but to Rose, it almost seemed as if the seats of their compartment had been upholstered more comfortably than those of the other compartments.

"Mum! Dad!" Albus had opened the window and stuck his head out. Rose thought his arm would fall off from all that frantic waving.

"Oh, let me see!" Molly glanced over his shoulder.

As the engine of the train started up, Victoire and Rose joined their cousins at the window to wave good-bye. Rose watched, with a sense of fear mixed with excitement, as she watched her parents grow smaller and smaller, until they were nothing more than two blurs.

"Good-bye! I love you!" Rose shouted one last time.

Then they turned the corner and the platform disappeared.

The trip started out nice enough. Rose had a window seat, and she pressed her forehead against the glass as she admired the beautiful English countryside as it passed by. The rolling hills; the large, staid trees, the occasional farmhouse or grazing goat. It was all very peaceful and calm to admire. But of course, you had to remember, she was riding with the rest of her _family_, and anything involving a Weasley, much less four of them, could possibly be attached to anything near _calm_.

Poor Pygmalion was growing restless in her cage, and she nipped Albus' unexpecting finger. "_Rose_!" He howled. "She bit my finger and its _bleeding_!"

Rose sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. Albus could really be a piece of work.

"For Merlin's sake, are you a wizard or not?!" Victoire snapped.

Albus' eyes widened, flushing red. "Even if I _am_ one, it's not like I know how to any magic!"

Oh dear. Rose knew how insecure her cousin was. Victoire really shouldn't go on . . .

"Don't even know a simple healing spell? Well, there's still no need to go on crying like a baby!"

And so it went on. Molly added an occasional grumble here and there. Rose simply tried her best to ignore the rest of them.

But then _James_ came back. And no, he was not done playing with firecrackers with his dear friend Mick Thomas - they had brought the fireworks show _with _them. Once Rose's fringe caught on fire and they had to douse out her whole head with an _Aguamenti_ charm, she knew it was time to leave.

There were times when it was a good thing to be a Weasley. This was not one of them.


	3. Across the Lake

**Across the Lake **

Scorpius tossed a few owl treats into Luna's cage, trying to get her to catch them in the air.

"No – no, bad Luna!" He huffed. He prodded his wand around in the cage, levitating a few crackers up to Luna's beak. He supposed that he would have to start with small steps.

Suddenly, he heard the compartment door slide open, and Scorpius hastily shoved his wand into the folds of his cloak. There was a girl with dripping wet hair standing in the doorway, dragging along a heavy trunk and a cage with a snow-white owl perching inside. Even though her hair was damp, Scorpius could still see it was a fiery red.

"Oh – hello." The girl said, a bit flustered. "Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if there was anyone else sitting in here?" She glanced round at the empty seats.

"Erm – no, there's no one else in here." Scorpius said uncertainly.

"Well, do you mind if I take a seat?"

Scorpius ran through his father's instructions in his mind. He wasn't supposed to befriend any of the Weasleys . . .but yet, he _was _obligated to help them out.

"Not at all." Scorpius finally decided. Just because they sat in the same compartment didn't nessacarily mean that they were going to become friends, after all.

The girl sat down, and let out a loud, bone-rattling sneeze. Oh dear. Scorpius glanced at her again, observing her more closely. She, just like himself, had already changed into her Hogwarts robes. The black material of her cloak was darkened in spots from the water trickling down from her hair.

"Er – do you need some help with that?" Scorpius gestured towards her hair.

"Oh, yes, long story, bloody relatives." The girl rattled off vaguely. "But yes, I really would appreciate it if you could somehow instantaneously dry my hair."

Scorpius couldn't help but smirk. "What," He said, mock-affronted. "Are you doubting my Wizarding skills?" He pulled out his wand.

The Weasley's eyes widened. "Oh, do you know spells already? But - how is that possible?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I've been practicing."

"For how long?" The girl frowned. "You're only allowed to use wand magic when you've received your first wand, and you can only get your first wand after your eleventh birthday. In _fact_, you're _really _not supposed to use magic outside of wizarding school at _all_, if you're a minor. The Ministry can Trace you. I've been reading up a few of my mother's books in my spare time." She said proudly.

Scorpius was beginning to like the girl less and less by the second. She sounded bossy and know-it-all; which was exactly how his father had described her mother. "Rules, schmules." Scorpius waved it off. "You're not the _only _one with a parent in the Ministry."

The girl narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, so you think you're above the rules, now, don't you?" She said softly.

Scorpius sighed as he lifted his wand. "Do you want me to dry your hair or not?"

"Oh, all right, I suppose -"

There was a loud _BANG_ as the door flew open.

"GET YOUR BLOODY WAND AWAY FROM MY COUSIN!!!"

Before Scorpius knew what was happening, his wand flew out of his hand. He turned to see two older guys, second or third year, rush into the compartment. One of them instantly had his arm around Malfoy's neck and a wand poised under his chin.

"Merlin's _pants_!" Malfoy cried out in shock. "What's going _on_ here?"

"That's the very same thing I'd like to ask _you_!" The boy holding Malfoy captive spat.

The Weasley girl stood up, hands on her hips. "James, will you let the boy go?" She rolled her eyes.

"But -" The other tall black boy looked between Scorpius and the girl in confusion. "But – Rose - we've just saved you!"

Rose snickered. "From what? From getting my hair dried?"

"What're you _talking_ about, Rose?" James Potter asked, bemused.

"Did you _honestly _think the Malfoy kid was trying to attack me?" Rose said, letting out another giggle. Scorpius scowled. Who was she to call him "the Malfoy kid"?

"I was _just_ trying to dry her hair for her." Scorpius explained, exasperated. "Honestly."

"Right." James scoffed, but he let Scorpius go. Scorpius rubbed his neck.

"Well?" Rose said, looking expectantly at James and his friend.

"Well what?" James asked, annoyed..

"Are you going to apologize?"

Scorpius was completely shocked. Imagine being stuck up for by a _Weasley_! "Oh, it's fine really. Just - you know," He cracked his neck and grimaced. "A bit of a misunderstanding."

James snorted.

Rose rolled her eyes. "James' completely barmy. So's Mick." The tall black boy opened his mouth protest, but Rose continued. "Don't mind them. If they ever goes at your neck again, just give them a good swift kick in the right place; they'll go right down." A gleam appeared in Rose's eyes. "I know from experience."

James and Mick both flushed.

"Er - thanks then." Scorpius said uncertainly.

James and Mick soon grumbled out, leaving the two first-years alone with their thoughts. Rose's hair was forgotten, as it was starting to dry anyways. From there on out, there was little conversation between them, if you could call it conversation. It mostly just Rose rattling off stupid, useless, facts about the school, and Scorpius nodding along, trying to pretend her cared.

By the time the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, the sun had set and Scorpius' stomach was grumbling again. Surely it hadn't been _that_ long since lunchtime . . .

As Rose and Scorpius stepped out onto the platform, another first-year, a spitting image of Harry Potter without the scar or glasses, rushed up to Rose.

"Rose! I've been looking all over for you! Thank Hedwig you're alright." His eyes flickered over to Scorpius, regarding him warily, and he lowered his voice a little. Nevertheless, Scorpius heard every word. "I heard you ran into a little trouble on the train. Almost got hexed, didn't you? Mick told me everything. Lucky for you you've got a good old cousin like James, eh?" The boy breathed.

Rose laughed, and Scorpius was also cracking up inside. "Oh, is _that _how they put it? Dear Albus, how are you going to ever _survive_ if you believe every word your brother says?"

Albus frowned. "Well - if that's not what happened . . ."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Big misunderstanding. Perhaps I'll tell you later. As for now, Al, look who it is!"

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here! Oy! Are those Weasleys I see over there?" A cheerful voice cried out. A bobbing lantern approached. As the figure neared, Scorpius could make out a massive form with bushy, graying hair and glittery black eyes.

"_Hagrid!_" Rose and Albus cried out in glee, flinging themselves around his trunk-like legs. Scorpius took this oppurtunity to make an escape. Couldn't risk being around these Weasleys any longer. He wove in between clumps of first years and hid himself inside the depths of the crowd.

They walked down towards the famed Black Lake, which Scorpius' father swore was home to merpeople. The crowded into small boats, four to each. Scorpius saw Poppy Zabini, a friend of the family's, and quickly hopped into her boat.

"Ello, Poppy." Scorpius greeted her.

"Malfoy." Poppy nodded curtly. Scorpius had always thought Poppy was a bit stuck-up and cold. Must be the genetics.

Another boy and girl hopped into their boat, and with a tap of Hagrid's pink umbrella, they sped off, sailing across the glassy surface of the lake towards Hogwarts. Sailing towards their futures as witches and wizards.


	4. A Shocking Sort

_Again, I'd like to thank all the amazing  
people who waste their time reading this  
__story of mine. A few of these amazing  
time-wasters include:  
Ilovebookshowboutyou  
Specksofdirt  
readerwriterthinker  
love-tear-perish  
buckbeak99  
xandromedax_

___You have no idea how much I appreciate  
____your support and help! Please feel free  
________________free to review or criticize anything; I  
________________________need your opinions. _

_Note: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of  
the characters mentioned in any of the books  
by J.K. Rowling, but I _DO_ own the Sorting Hat  
__song that appears somewhere in this chapter._

___I would greatly appreciate it if you don't skip  
over the song because you're too bored to  
read it, because I spent a while writing the  
lyrics and I'd like a few reviews. Thank you!_

___To my dear friend **Luna Jackson**, the third  
____line in the fifth stanza of the song is  
________dedicated to you! _

* * *

**A Shocking Sort**

A large, monstrous castle loomed out over the lake. Scorpius could hear large gasps as the large shape of Hogwarts came into view. Even _he_ had trouble suppressing his awe.

"You look like a berk with your mouth open like that, you know." Poppy said bluntly.

Scorpius flushed angrily and shut his jaw.

The boats docked at a small cove underneath the big cliff Hogwarts was perched on, and Hagrid led the students up the enormous flight of stairs to a great pair of double doors. After knocking loudly, the doors creaked open and a slim, Indian lady appeared.

"Ah. First years. Come in. Thank you for bringing them in, Hagrid."

"No problem at all, Padma." Hagrid said cheerfully, and left for dinner as the woman turned to the students.

"Well, its nice to see all of you here tonight." The woman said crisply. "Welcome to Hogwarts School. I am Professor Patil. I'll be your Deputy Headmistress this year." She gestured inside. "Follow me."

She led them off into an antechamber. "In a few minutes, I shall come back to collect you and take you to the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast; a yearly tradition at Hogwarts."

"Now, as many of you know, Hogwarts consists of four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Before the Feast, there is going to be a Sorting Ceremony to determine which house you'll be put into. This ceremony _will_ be performed in front of the rest of the school, so I suggest you smarten yourselves up a bit." She eyed the students one last time. "Do try to behave yourselves while I'm gone."

As soon as she left, a frantic whispering broke out.

"A _ceremony_? Like what? A test?" One panicking Muggle-born cried.

"A _test_? No way . . . .how much do they expect us to know?"

"I've never heard of any of this housing nonsense in Durmstrang . . .should've known the Britons would come up with something absolutely deranged like this." One dark-haired figure grumbled.

"Wait, what kind of test are we supposed to take?" A blonde girl sniffled. Clearly a Hufflepuff.

"It's just a _hat_!" Someone yelled exasperatedly over all the panicked conversation. Scorpius looked over to see that it was Rose. "Merlin's _sake_, don't go pulling your hair out now."

"What?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "It's. A. Bloody. _Hat_." She sneered. "You wear it on your _noggin, _if you're lucky enough to own one."

"Oh, and what, it magically tells you what house you're in?" One snotty Muggle-born boy scoffed.

"Yes. That's exactly what it does." Rose said matter-of-factly.

"This is madness!" The snotty boy cried.

"No." Scorpius said quietly. "Its _magic_." Scorpius smirked. "In case you can't tell the difference." Several others tittered.

Before the snotty Muggle-born boy could reply, the antechamber door creaked open again, and Professor Patil appeared once more. "Follow me." she said briskly, leading them across the immense flagstone-tiled floor into the Great Hall.

Scorpius automatically looked up as the large oak doors creaked open, eager to witness the enchanted ceiling he had heard so much about. It certainly did not disappoint. The bright stars twinkled and winked in the dark night sky. There wasn't a single cloud obstructing the view of the heavens. The full, round, moon emitted an eerie, pearly glow. A beautiful bald eagle wheeled to and fro in the night sky, spreading its wings majestically. It was close enough to the ground so that its resonant _caws_ could be heard from the Great Hall.

The Hall itself as enormous. Twice as wide as it was tall, the volume of the room was overwhelming. It glowed with the the light of a thousand floating candles, shining on the faces of hundreds and hundreds of eager and anticipated faces. The place was packed with black-robed students. Scorpius noted that all of the five long tables in the room were dressed with gleaming silverware - knives and goblets and plates that were, unfortunately, empty.

The first years lined up at the top of the hall, in front of the Head Table where twenty or so teachers watched the new students carefully. Scorpius quickly glanced at the Headmistress' chair, and noticed that it was, surprisingly, empty. Before he could say anything about this unusual circumstance to any of his neighbors, Patil placed a stool in front of the first years and on top of the stool, she plopped ancient-looking pointed hat. The Sorting Hat.

The brim ripped wide open, just like a mouth, and it began to sing in its old, crackly voice.

_To the dear new students,  
__Do not look at me in disdain  
__I may not be much to look at,  
__But I warn that I'm very vain._

_Proud of what, you say?  
__Certainly not of my looks.  
__But of my immense knowledge,  
__Beyond any knowledge of books._

_I can delve into the deep crevices,  
__Of your young, empty little minds.  
__And I shall read you like a book,  
__And use all the information I can find._

_To sort you into your rightful House,  
__To put you among your like.  
__Where you will find those who share  
__Your same view on life._

_If you are eager and hardworking,  
__And stay honest and true,  
__If you are good at finding things,  
__Then Hufflepuff is for you._

_For those who enjoy using their brains,  
__And who possess a quick sharp mind,  
__For those of wit and knowledge,  
__In Ravenclaw are those of your kind._

_In Slytherin are those who are  
__Determined to succeed.  
__They are cunning and persistent,  
__Though they may be tainted by greed._

_And then we have brave Gryffindor,  
__For those of noble blood,  
__They may be quite rash at times,  
__But always mean to do good._

_Of these Four Founders, Four Houses  
__Is Hogwarts School made,  
__Sly snakes, great lions,  
__Brainy ravens, and badgers staid._

_Not sure which house you belong to?  
__No worries, that's my job.  
__Just put me on your little heads,  
__And I'll sort you into your mob._

_And so my ballad ends here,  
__From now on I'll be your tool,  
__To help you find your House,  
__Your family within Hogwarts School!_

The Hall burst out into applause. The hat made a little bow, then sat still on its wooden stool.

Students were called up one by one. As Scorpius awaited his turn, he observed the students sitting at the tables.

The Gryffindors were a noisy, riotous, friendly lot. The Ravenclaws sat, prim and professional, staring the first-years down with analytical look-overs. The Hufflepuffs seemed to smile too much and were very meek-looking. Malfoy glanced over at the Slytherins, the house that he was going to be sorted into. Oh, dear. They looked rather . . . .unfriendly. They sat there sullenly, dark-looking, intimidating, occasionally smirking as a new addition arrived at their green-laid table. They were noisy too, like the Gryffindors, but there was something awfully barbaric about their commotion. Ah, well, Scorpius supposed he should be used to those sort of people. All of the family friends _had _come from Slytherin, after all.

"Macmillan, Patrice!" Professor Patil called out. The slim, freckle-faced girl was sorted into Ravenclaw, and was greeted with a round of polite applause and many handshakes. Malfoy took a deep breath.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Scorpius slowly walked to the stool, trying to imitate the confident swagger his father put on, but failed miserably. His knees were literally knocking.

The last thing he saw before the hat fell over his eyes was a table full of Gryffindors smiling encouragingly.

_Ah. Another Malfoy. You're grandfather and father, you know - I barely had to touch their hair to sort them. They practically radiated the Slytherin spirit . . ._

Scorpius frowned. If that was so, why was it taking himself so long to be sorted?

_But you see, for you - it might take me a while._

The next few words jolted Scorpius.

___In fact, you're not very much a Slytherin at all._

What? Scorpius had never even _thought_ of being in any other house besides Slytherin. All his family had been in Slytherin for as long as he - or anyone - could remember.

_You don't have to follow in their footsteps, child._

But _everyone_ expected him to be in Slytherin. What would his father say?

_Be unique. Don't let others hinder you from becoming your own person. Well, unless you'd like to end up just like your father. No offense, of course. _

Scorpius cringed. The Hat had hit a nerve. Scorpius absolutely _hated_ it whenever anyone compared him to his father. He was always getting - "Oh, you look just like him!" or "You'll grow up to be just like your father someday" or "A real chip off the old block". It was annoying and irritating. Scorpius wasn't really anything like his father, once people got to know him better. But - no one really bothered to get to know him better.

_See, you don't want to be known simply as another Malfoy, do you? _

Definitely not. But if he wasn't put in Slytherin . . . .

_Well, lets see. _The hat analyzed.

_You're a bit insecure and unsure about yourself, you're willing to work hard - no, don't worry, I don't think you're a Hufflepuff. But there's no shame in being a Hufflepuff, really. You shouldn't be thinking such awful thoughts about them - anyways, I also see that you doubt your family, and you are ashamed of some of their actions._

_You are honest, true, pure - don't want to be tainted by corruption, eh? I see. You also want to know more about your father and his history, but you're partially afraid to find out about his past. _

_And - ah - I see bravery. _

Bravery? Scorpius could find a few words to describe himself, but he didn't think the word _bravery_ would ever apply to a little boy who used to be frightened to death by the mere _thought _of Gnargles in his soup. Bravery was what people like the Potters and Weasley radiated. But not a Malfoy like him.

_Yes, bravery. In fact, a lot of it, even if you haven't found it yet. I speak the truth, Scorpius. _

Scorpius didn't dare hope. He was afraid of what he wanted. Surely the Sorting Hat wouldn't ever put him in -

_Gryffindor? Funny, that was exactly what I was thinking. _

Scorpius was shell-shocked.

It hit him like a wave. He wasn't quite sure whether to be affronted or happy. No, he _shouldn't_ be happy, he was a Malfoy. He was pretty sure the only relation in his family _ever_ to be in Gryffindor was Sirius Black, and he was _barely_ related to the Malfoys. Scorpius' father would _murder_ him.

Scorpius sighed. Maybe it would be better - and safer - if he just stuck to the family tradition.

_Ah. I see. You want to play it safe. . . . .but for your own good and the good of the rest of the Wizarding world, I'm not going to let you, and I'm sticking with my instinct, which has never failed before, and put you into - _

_"_GRYFFINDOR!_"_

Scorpius' jaw dropped. Surely he had imagined it . . . .but no, everyone else had clearly heard it as well; Hall went completely silent, as suddenly as a candle is blown out by the wind. The Sorting Hat's bellowing voice echoed against the stone walls._ Gryffindor . . . . .Gryffindor . . . . . _The echoes rang inside Scorpius' head.

_I'm sorry if you're upset about where I've put you. _The Hat chuckled. _But you'll thank me someday._ _Now, do you mind taking me off, please? There are people waiting._

Scorpius confusedly lifted up the hat, his gray eyes blinking as they were exposed to the light. He saw the shock on his own face mirrored a hundred times on the other students. Wow. What a milestone. A _Malfoy_ sorted in Gryffindor.

He carefully set the Hat down on the stool for "Margot, Anne!" and walked, trembling like a leaf, over to the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors got over their shock the quickest, and burst out into a roaring applause, and the other houses started to recover themselves as well. The Slytherins were the slowest ones to snap out of their astonishment.

Scorpius received many claps on the back and handshakes from his fellow Gryffindors.

"Well done!"

"Welcome to Gryffindor, Scorpius!"

"So one of 'em has gone good after all, haven't they?"

"Congratulations! Very unexpected, but we expect you'll be an important asset to our house, eh?"

An enthusiastic Daniel Finnigan nearly knocked the breath out of Scorpius with a huge pat on the shoulder. "Al_right_! We've got the first Malfoy _ever_ to be disowned by ol' Salazar, eh? You're making history, mate!"

Scorpius grinned so hard he thought his jaw would lock. He didn't notice the icy-green glare he was receiving from a certain auburn-haired third-year.

* * *

_Note: I'd like to give a HUGE thanks to **luna-lovegood-77**, who has volunteered so much time reviewing these last two chapters and has saved me from leaving the most amateur and embarrassing mistakes out here for everyone to read. _


	5. A Bird's Eye View

_Once again, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **luna-lovegood-77. **To see why, check the bottom of the last chapter.  
Warning: This chapter is rather suckish style-wise because I kind of wrote it  
in a rush, but I think the storyline and events are okay enough._

_Please review and tell me how I could've worded things better!_

* * *

**A Bird's Eye View**

The Sorting Ceremony was moving much to slow for Rose's taste, and much to fast for Albus. Rose cursed herself for having such a last name, and Albus would've bit his arm off to trade last names with Rose.

Rose observed as some students she recognized were sorted. The snotty Muggle-born prat of a boy, "Bernard, Jonathan", was sorted into Ravenclaw. The panicky blonde girl, "Hoffman, Phillipa", was sorted into Hufflepuff. The dark, tall boy with a strong accent, "Krum, Richard" was sorted into Slytherin.

Then - the shock of the night, the Malfoy boy Rose had been sitting with on the Express had been sorted into _Gryffindor_! What a joke! Rose was too busy contemplating over this miracle that she didn't notice her cousin's buildup of anxiety.

* * *

"Potter, Albus!" Professor Patil's voice rang out, clear and loud.

Poor Albus' face instantly became whitewashed. Rose took one good look at him and thanked great gargoyles that her cousin hadn't eaten dinner yet.

She nudged her statue-frozen cousin forward. "Go, already, Al." She hissed into his ear.

Al stumbled over to the stool, his eyes as wide as saucers in fright. He placed the large hat over his jet-black hair, his hands trembling.

_Ah. It's __**another **__Weasley, isn't it? Great Merlin wouldn't know what to do with so many of you._

Albus chattered from nerves and anxiety.

_Scared, are you? Hmph. There's nothing to be scared of, dear. You must simply __**trust**__ me to put you in the house you belong in. Your fate is in my hands._

_No, Al, there is no choosing. I know you better than you yourself do. I know whats good for you all. No, I'm not just going to put you into Gryffindor and get over with it. No, you're father cannot bribe me. Yes, I realize who he is, for Dumbledore's sake!_

_Well, you're not much of a courageous child, to tell you the truth, but you certainly persevere; maybe Slytherin . . . but, oh, no that's not right. You're not deceitful enough, if I do say so myself. Ravenclaw? To high and dry for you, eh? Well, then that only leaves -_

_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO __**PLEASE**__ NO. _Albus thought frantically in his mind. He felt as if he was about to cry. This couldn't happen -

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

_**BLOODY HAT!**_

His fate was sealed.

* * *

Rose's jaw dropped in shock as the wicked, wicked, hat bellowed out her (or what is it his?) verdict.

Hufflepuff?

The whole hall was filled with whispers and a few mean giggles. The Hufflepuff table, however, burst into a standing ovation.

"OY! WE'VE FINALLY GOT A POTTER!" Chace Creevey pumped a triumphant fist into the air.

She watched as her poor cousin slowly took off the Sorting Hat, bewildered. His face was as red as her own hair. Poor, poor Al!

She couldn't _begin_ to imagine the humiliation he was enduring - the first Weasley _ever_ to be in Hufflepuff. Oh sure, the adults were always telling them that there was no shame in being a Hufflepuff; they were true, good, faithful, and loyal. But Rose knew - _everyone_ knew - that Hufflepuffs were just a bunch of nancies. Oh, the disgrace to his noble blood!

Albus walked uncertainly over the Hufflepuff table and was greeted with twice as much enthusiasm as Scorpius had gotten from Gryffindor. Rose was pretty sure tonight was one of the most unexpected Sorting Ceremonies ever held at Hogwarts.

Rose waited eagerly for her own name to be called. She had a pretty good idea which house she wanted, and she had a feeling she would get in, as well.

_C'mon._ She thought, as "Quentin, Michelle" was sorted into Ravenclaw. _Hurry up already, you darned hat._ Rose fidgeted with her robes. She tried to distract herself.

She looked over the staff table. Oh, look, there was Hagrid, who gave her a small, friendly, wink. And then there was Mr. Longbottom, who sent a polite wave her way. Professor Hestia Jones sat at her Defense Against the Dark Arts position, her raven-black bun streaked with silver gray. As her light blue eyes recognized Rose, she gave the little girl a warm smile.

"Smith, Amanda!"

Rose scanned the rest of the table, a motley assortment of all sorts of teachers. Ones in neat, pressed, robes, ones who looked as if they'd just dug themselves out of a dirt hole, ones who seemed as if their lips had been jinxed into an eternal frown, ones with thick eyebrows, ones with two eyes of different colors, ones that were thin, ones that were struggling to fit into their chairs, ones that were short, ones that were giants (or at least half-giant), ones that were dead, and - ones that were currently absent.

Rose eyed the empty Headmistress' chair in scrutiny. What kind of headmistress didn't even bother attending the first dinner of the school year?

"Walters, Jessika!"

Rose's pulse raced. Oh, she was so close!

She felt herself heating up in anticipation, and tried to calm herself down. Rose took a few deep breaths, then let her eyes wander over the Hall. It was as immense as described in _Hogwarts, A History_. And the ceiling was just brill. It was vaulted impossibly high over their heads, and the enchanted ceiling gave Rose the wonderful sensation as if she was staring off directly into the night sky, dotted with tiny little diamonds. A graceful and august bald eagle swooped down from the heavens and fluttered to rest in one of the Hall's open eaves

"Weasley, Rose!"

Rose nearly let out a shriek. With her face flushed, her blue eyes bright, she walked forward confidently and eagerly, shoving the hat down over her head.

_Crikey, it's another one, isn't it? Dear, I'm afraid to ask, but just __**how**__ many of you are here today? Ah, I see, it's just you and your cousin. Oh, good. I don't know how many of you hot-tempered Weasleys I can take. No offense to you, dearest. But your cousin said a few rather unkind things to me - oh yes, sorry, anyways, you want to be in Ravenclaw?_

_Well, yes, I can certainly see that your knowledge is very thorough and advanced, and you do read a lot of books, darling, but I'm afraid to tell you - you're actually not as smart as you think you are. Oh dear, I know it's a horrible shock, yes, yes, you WILL certainly excel in all of your classes, I'm sure, don't worry about __**that**__._

_But, love, have you __**ever**__ considered there's other forms of intelligence besides being book smart? Hmmm . . . . Perhaps you should think more about that while you're in -_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose slipped the hat off, bemused, and somehow found her way to the roaring Gryffindor table. Her family members welcomed her warmly, and there were many high-fives and words of congratulation, but Rose paid no attention to any of it. She was too hung up on the Sorting Hat's words. What could she've meant? (It _was_ a **she**)

Rose half-mindedly paid attention to the rest of the sortings.  
"Zabini, Poppy" was sorted into Ravenclaw, and "Zhang, Amethyst" was also sorted into Gryffindor. The slim Asian girl slid onto the bench next to Rose, and silently gave her a polite smile.

"Alright." Professor Patil rolled up the first-year roster, and with a whisk of her wand, the stool, hat, and list all disappeared. "Now that you have all been sorted, I think it's about time I introduce you first-years to your Headmistress, Professor Anglia Whitwicke!"

Patil flung an arm upwards. Rose frowned, puzzled, then she whipped her head around as she heard a series of gasps.

Rose turned in time to see the beautiful bald eagle leap out from the window into the Hall, spreading its majestic brown wings to show off an impressive wingspan. The first-years watched in awe.

The bird glided gracefully over the student's heads, circling over the tables, then made a beeline towards the Head Table. Just as the eagle's claws were about to drag away the golden tablecloth, the eagle disappeared and there was suddenly a tall woman in glistening brown feathered robes standing in its place at the Headmistress' seat.

Anglia Whitwicke had a severe snow-white bob, piercing gold eyes that seemed to see right through you, and a good height that reached at least 6'0. She had a slim but athletic figure, and though it was clear she was of a rather great age, her skin was still appeared quite young, besides a few wrinkles here and there.

Rose elbowed James. "Hey! You never told me the Headmistress was an Animagi!" Rose hissed.

James shrugged and smirked. "This school is full of secrets." He whispered back.

Rose watched as Whitwicke pointed a long wand at her throat. "_Sonorus_!" Whitwicke had a crisp, clean, voice. "All right?" She smiled at the students, her voice now amplified.

"All right!" They echoed back.

"Well, it certainly is good to see you all back again for another year of school, and as for the first-years, I'd like to say: welcome. I see you've all been sorted into your houses, and even if you don't like where you've been put, I advise that you had _better _learn to love it soon. As the Hat mentioned before, your House will be like your family within Hogwarts. You will live with them, have classes with them, support their Quidditch team, and you will all work together to try to win the House Cup."

"How _do_ you win the House Cup? I shall explain for the newcomers. For you old-schoolers, sit back, relax, and bear with me for a while."

"If you noticed as you came in, there are four large hourglasses mounted on the wall of the Entrance Hall, which, if I may mention, were repaired after the war from the generous funding of Minister Shacklebolt himself. Each house is assigned an hourglass, based on the color of the jewels inside."

"Those four hourglasses will tally your house points. When you gain, gems shall drop into the lower bulb. When you are deducted points, gems shall float back up into the upper bulb. Simple enough, right? You earn points by answering questions in class, by being a role model, a good citizen, and contributing to the school. You lose points by being rude to your teachers, by causing trouble or disturbance, or by breaking any of the rules mentioned in the Student Handbook that was mailed to your house. Let me rephrase; you lose points by being _caught _breaking the rules." Rose noticed Whitwicke gave James and Mick a slight wink.

"Now as I am sure you poor things are all ravenous for food, I shall cease talking." Whitwicke pointed her wand at her throat one more. "_Quietus_."

Rose looked expectantly at her dish. "Where's the food?" She said, puzzled. "Isn't it supposed to - appear?" She'd been pretty sure that's what _Hogwarts: A History _had described.

James rolled his eyes. "Dear Rosie, it's a new millennium, we do things differently. The house-elves changed policies nearly ten years ago. If you want something to eat, just order it."

Amethyst, the girl sitting next to Rose, glanced over at James hesitatingly. "So - so we just say it, then?"

"Yeah, yeah, like this." James rolled up his sleeves, clearly enjoying the attention as other first years glanced over for help. "Key lime pie." He said firmly.

James started when, instead of a delicious green dessert, a piece of parchment appeared on his plate. Rose snatched it up before James could react.

"Eat your veggies first." Rose read slowly.

Amethyst burst into giggles, and James turned pink. "Well - well." He spluttered. "They've certainly never done this before. Must be some sort of stupid health regulation those bloody house-elves cooked up."

"Don't let my Mum catch you talking about house-elves that way." Rose warned.

"Of course, the amazing Hermione Granger, founder of S.P.E.W." Amethyst said admiringly. "And then there's your dad . . .and _your _dad." She gave a meaningful nod towards James.

"Mashed potatoes." James said, with better luck this time. "Oh, yes, of course, the Golden Trio. And the _amazing_ Harry Potter. Also known as Daddy."

"Turkey and gravy." Amethyst ordered. "You all are _so _lucky, to have such skilled and _experienced_ parents. I'm only a half-blood, my Mum's a witch, but my dad's just a plain ol' Muggle. I still love him, though."

"You're Mum's experienced enough, she was in Dumbledore's Army and she was at the Battle of Hogwarts and everything. Roast beef." Rose dug in, starving.

James chuckled. "My dad used to date your mother. Isn't that odd?"

Amethyst laughed. "How do you know all this?"

Rose and James both groaned. "Our parents tell us stories all the time about their school days." James smirked. "Mum doesn't like it when Dad mentions your Mum though." All three of them broke out into giggles.

Rose stopped laughing as she saw Albus, sitting miserably alone, three tables away. The Fat Friar had decided to come down to dinner and was sitting next to him. Many other Hufflepuffs tried making conversation with Al, but Rose could tell, even from where she was standing, that Al was in a gloomy mood.

James noticed where Rose was looking, and said sympathetically. "Poor kid. Always afraid he wouldn't live up to his family. And I know we always tease him about being a nancy-boy, but _never_, would I have ever though he'd end up in _Hufflepuff_. I mean-"

James lowered his voice and looked around warily - "There are a lot of other kids in Gryffindor this year who I cannot even _begin _to comprehend how they got in. Like, take that _Malfoy_ for example." James said darkly, shooting a piercing glare in Scorpius' direction. "It's obvious that Albus deserves a spot in Gryffindor a _hundred_ times more than that filth does. I think Malfoy ought to just stick to his slimy Slytherin dungeons and leave us Gryffindors alone and untainted."

"James!" Rose whispered reproachingly.

"What?" James persisted. "It's true. He doesn't belong here. And -" James leaned in closer. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but me and Mick _will_ find a way to set him in his rightful place. Whether the bloody Hat thinks so or not."


End file.
